


Meme Ficlet: Break

by greywash



Series: Meme Ficlets (Spring 2012... and onward) [18]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywash/pseuds/greywash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Meme ficlet, archived off Tumblr; unbeta'ed and un-Britpicked.</em>
</p>
<p><strong>lux-obscura requested</strong>: Thirteen is locked in a broom cupboard with two. How's that work out?</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <strong>2. Anthea<br/></strong>
  </strong>
  <strong>13. Molly</strong>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meme Ficlet: Break

"What happened to your BlackBerry?" Molly asks, near minute seven, by her count. She's getting antsy. She's never liked enclosed spaces, especially not when they involve forced contact with other humans. There's a reason why she has a job where all the people she works with closely on any kind of regular basis are dead.

"The battery ran out," Anthea says. "I plugged it in in the car." She doesn't sound terribly concerned. She's perched on an upturned bucket and still manages to look perfectly elegant and in control. Molly's fairly certain her own hair is actually getting frizzier by the second, simply from the stress. Even in just the faint light from under the door, she can tell that her jumper is sagging, too, like it's embarrassed to be caught with her. She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Don't worry," Anthea says, giving her a small smile. "Mr. Holmes will find us soon enough."

Molly uncrosses her arms and then leans against the shelves of cleaning supplies and then crosses them again.

"Oh, don't," Anthea says, quickly. "There's bleach behind you—your hair is—" She scoots over, improbably, on the bucket, and pats the narrow sliver to her left.

Molly swallows. She doesn't want to get bleach in her hair. She takes a step over and settles awkwardly with her hip against Anthea's.

"This is sort of absurd," Molly says, crossing her arms again. If she shifts so her back is more against Anthea's, her knees knock against the back wall, but she feels less like she's going to fall off the bucket.

Anthea leans her weight against Molly's spine, humming. "It's not all bad," she says. "Haven't had a break yet, today." She tips her head back, pressing against Molly's skull. Molly blinks. It's—nice, actually.

"Me neither," Molly admits.

"We should've brought lunch," Anthea suggests, and Molly laughs out loud, startled at the sudden warm tug under her ribs.

"Or maybe a bottle of wine," she suggests, and Anthea giggles.

"I used to keep a flask in my handbag," she admits, turning her head, just a little. "But that was really more for diplomatic emergencies than broom cupboard emergencies."

"Ugh, you and my sister," Molly says, and then laughs, shaking her head. "I turn pink all over if I so much as _look_ at hard liquor."

"Well, that sounds like fun," Anthea says cheerfully, and Molly scrunches up her face and says, "Well, it keeps my pub bills down. Speaking of—"

The door swings open just then, flooding the broom cupboard with too-bright light. Molly twists and squints up, just as Anthea is saying, "Mr. Holmes! You found us," and holding out a hand to pull Molly to her feet.

"Really, dear, I hardly knew what to do with myself when I realized your BlackBerry was still in the car," he says, with a smile—a surprisingly warm smile, at that. "I hardly know who I am anymore, if you're not to hand to remind me."

Anthea laughs, brushing off her skirt, then says, "So, Molly—tomorrow?"

"What?" Molly says, thrown, and Anthea says, "You were going to ask—" and Molly says, "Oh! Yes, I—" and Anthea beams at her and says, "I'll give you a call, then," and then she and Mr. Holmes disappear into the lifts so quickly that Molly's left blinking, still oddly disoriented by the light.

She didn't ever give Anthea her mobile number, but she's not at all surprised that Anthea has it.


End file.
